Page 42 of Sacrificing the Untamed Lady Henrietta
“You are most unkind, wife.”
“As are you, Sir, but you have only yourself to blame for the miserable mess you have made. You have been the architect of your own pain. What you perpetrated on your daughter has come back to strike you hard. And rightly so.”
“I could not bear the thought of losing her.”
“And therein lies the great irony,” she simmered.
“All that I ever intended was to keep her safe!”
“I commend you, Sir, for you have done it! She is safely out of your reach.”
“Tabitha,” the General pleaded with her, his eyes filling with long-denied tears. “Have you no pity?”
“You have isolated us once and for all from our only child and ensured there is no remedy for it. She is the Marquess’ problem now.”
“Problem?” he balked at the callous characterization of his daughter.
“Isn’t that how you viewed the situation, Sir? Dare to deny it. She was a problem to be solved, plain and simple.”
“Shewas not a problem, Madam!” the General sniped angrily.
The truth was he loved his daughter, but he knew what was best for her, and she needed to conform. He feared her bold ideas would destroy any chance for happiness. If only she would be content to cover screens and master the pianoforte like other girls. Why couldn’t she just read novels and flirt over whist with his officers? Marrying her off to the Marquess was the best chance she had for a real future. There was no future for her in science! Why couldn’t Henrietta see that? Why couldn’t she just trust him?
“Tabitha, I only wanted to protect her, I say. To protect her from the gossipmongers, from the scorn society wields when they do not understand. From its judgment and censure!”
“So, you censured her yourself.” Another irony, though she hardly needed to point it out. “A beautiful child told again and again she should not be so smart. How was she supposed to help it?”
Tears now rolled silently over the hardened soldier’s chiseled cheeks. He wiped them away with the back of his hand.
“I will make things right with Henrietta. I solemnly swear it to you this day.”
“As you wish. I don’t expect we will ever see her again.”
* * *
Neither Henrietta nor the Marquess felt particularly sociable, especially after tea, so they agreed to take their evening meal within their rooms. It would appear to Anna and Gerome to be a romantic supper together, but that notion was as false as the rest of it. After the two servants finally left them to enjoy their meal, the Marquess fled as well, plate in hand, shutting the connecting door with a resounding thud.
The night was long and passed slowly for Henrietta. She chided herself mercilessly for calling the Marquess a hypocrite. It was true, to be sure, but what had she hoped to achieve by pointing it out? It had been foolish and gained her nothing. Instead, it had clearly cost her. She wasn’t exactly sure what, but it had cost her something. It had costthem.
Still, he had deserved a bit of down dressing, prattling on about how he could not tolerate her enduring an insult. How had he not seen how ridiculous that was in light of how he had treated her?
Well, he’s seen it now. I made sure of it.
But somehow that didn’t make her feel better.
Henrietta wondered if all his talk of freedom was sincere. He said he believed in freedom for all, that he wanted his wife to enjoy freedom of thought and expression, freedom to choose and to dream. Did he mean it?
She wondered. It was one thing to affirm the right of his wife to express her thoughts, even as unpopular opinions, but it was something else entirely to give his blessing to her quest for knowledge, her love of science, and her application to medical school.
Anna’s cheerful voice interrupted her thoughts. “Do you have your letters ready for the post, my Lady? I can take them out for you if you like.”
“No need, Anna. I dropped them in the receiving box myself yesterday. The Old Bell will add my postage to the Marquess’ bill.”
“Very good, my Lady.”
Yes, it was very good. She had mailed off three letters of application to the medical colleges, renewing her quest. This time she signed them as H. Oliver Clark. It was intentionally ambiguous, yes, but it was technically correct. They still might not accept her, but it would not be because they thought she was a woman.
The girl made to leave, but Henrietta stopped her. She wanted to ask Anna the question that had nagged her since her first conversation with the Duchess.
